Comatose
by OccasionallyRestless
Summary: AU set between S5 end & S6. Instead of dying, Buffy falls into a coma after the fight with Glory but there's something supernatural about it. Is it self-induced or is she being kept prisoner in her own mind? Can the gang reach her before it's too late?
1. Part One

**WHOLE STORY DISCLAIMER: **All familiar characters, places etc belong to Joss Whedon, not me.

**A/N: **I've had the idea for something like this for a while, but how to put it into an actual story has only recently occurred to me in a lovely flash of inspiration, so I hope you enjoy it. This fic is in 7 parts, all of which I have written and will be posting on a weekly basis. Reviews may, however, speed up my posting ;) Happy reading!

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**Part One**

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Dawn watched as her big sister sacrificed herself, leaping off the monstrous metal tower and into the bright abyss of light that had appeared in the night sky. Tears ran from her wide eyes as she held her wounds and stood motionless until the light disappeared when the sudden return of darkness pushed her into action and she rushed down the steps as fast as she was able, the impossible hope that Buffy was still alive fuelling her steps.

The rest of the gang slowly congregated together: Willow and the newly-restored Tara leaning on each other, Xander carrying Anya, all smiling slightly as the insane idea that they had _won _crossed their minds. However their smiles flickered when they noticed Giles' stricken expression focused on something they had obviously missed. Together they turned to find the source of this emotion, and on seeing it froze as loss ripped through them.

Spike was just coming to as the light disappeared and he quickly forced himself to his feet only to collapse to his knees as the pain and dizziness caused by his wounds fully registered in his tired mind. _Get up, _he thought, _get up you lazy prick and go keep your bloody promise. _He stumbled back to his feet and mentally pushed himself towards the group, aware of keeping to the shadows as he could sense the sun beginning to rise. But when he saw her, he became unaware of anything else.

_Buffy._

He sank to his knees again, disbelieving and confused eyes trained on the sight of her lying on a throne of rubble. Then he realised what must have happened – she had sacrificed herself to save Dawn. She had _had _to sacrifice herself because he'd failed her. He had failed her, and now...

_No. _Without a care for who could see, without a care for his reputation, Spike brought his hands to his face and sobbed.

The rest of the gang didn't see this, too absorbed in their own grief. Neither did they see Dawn finally reach the bottom of the stairs or notice her until she walked past them all to kneel before her sister's body. Her hand was shaking as she reached out and gently caressed Buffy's cheek. "Buffy?" she said timidly. When she got no reply, Dawn moved her hand to her shoulder and shook her slightly: "Buffy, y-you need to get up." The gang looked on in silence, their hearts breaking for the young girl in front of them.

Giles slowly knelt next to her, placing his hand on her back: "Dawn, it's too late," he said thickly, swallowing around his tears. "She's gone...she's gone."

Dawn began to shake violently as a hot flood of tears spilled down her cheeks and harsh sobs ripped from her chest. Giles tried to hug her but she pushed him away and curled over the body of her sister, one hand clasped in her jumper. Off to the side of the group, Dawn's sobs filtered through Spike's pain. He looked at her and the sight of her grief drew him to her before he knew what he was doing. Sinking down beside her, he gently pulled her into his arms, ignoring that she tried to pull away, and stroked her hair and held her tight as they cried together. It was after an eternity like this, when Dawn's sobs began to quieten, that something odd came to his attention.

There was a group of six humans around him, so he would expect six heartbeats, and yet he could detect seven. His grief addled brain clung to this piece of information as a brief, welcomed distraction from the situation at hand and it raced with possibilities to explain it. He could be mishearing things, that was very possible – or it could mean they were being watched. Spike subtly scanned the area around them for any figures but found nothing. Then his eyes landed on Buffy's form and he was overcome with hope and disbelief.

It couldn't be possible.

He focused on the seventh heartbeat, distinguishing it from the others easily as it was much weaker and slower than what he knew to be a healthy pace. Closing his eyes, he used all of his energy to block the noises around him, to block out his emotions and his thoughts as he tried to follow the fluttering heartbeat back to its source...

He opened his eyes. "She's alive."

As soon as he uttered the words, the gang froze in disbelief. It was only when Giles had searched for and confirmed that a pulse was still weakly present in her that they became vocal, someone asking if anyone had a phone to call for an ambulance, someone else replying that they couldn't afford to wait, she may not make it if they didn't get her to Sunnydale General as soon as possible.

In amongst the noise, Spike's hope had made him forget the pain and dizziness that not five minutes ago had prevented him from standing. He gently eased his arms under Buffy's knees and shoulders and lifted her, cradling her injured form as he made his way as quick as he could to the hospital, the gang following close behind.

They arrived just as the sun fully edged over the horizon, Spike rushing into the building with the back of his coat smoking dangerously. He immediately handed Buffy to the nurses and doctors and was about to set up vigil with the rest of the gang but was pulled aside by Giles.

"Spike I think it would be better if you weren't here."

Spike was outraged. "Why the hell shouldn't I be here Rupes? And don't give me that 'evil vampire' bollocks because I just bloody well _carried _your Slayer here and that should _bleedin' well_ count for something!"

"I only meant that your appearance may bring some unwanted attention. If the doctors see your injuries they will want to help you, and it would be rather difficult to explain why your heart is not beating."

Spike stared at him for a moment, determined to say something that outweighed the annoyingly logical reason Giles had put forward. After a moment he was forced to give in and swiftly left the hospital. After cleaning up, changing and feeding he returned and joined the solemn group in the waiting room. Buffy was in surgery. She had broken some ribs, her left leg and possibly had a fractured skull and the doctors suspected she may have internal bleeding. All of these injuries could be fixed by Slayer healing, but none of the group knew how the energy of the would-be portal had affected her.

Spike guessed it wouldn't be in a good way.

When eventually a surgeon made his way towards them, pulling the green mask from his mouth, the group stood as one as Giles moved to the approaching man. Dawn grasped Spike's hand, holding it tight as they watched the surgeon and the Watcher exchange some words then shake hands. When Giles returned, Dawn's heart was in her throat.

"They've managed to stop the bleeding and set her bones. He said how amazed he was when they began the surgery that it looked like she had begun to heal beyond the normal rate-"

"Well, that's good right? Slayer healing has a purpose after all," Xander interjected, a small hopeful smile lighting his features.

"Yes, yes it is good. Her injuries will heal..."

When he paused, the uneasy silence was broken by Willow: "Giles? What is it?"

"She...Buffy's fallen into a coma."

A heavy silence overcame them as they tried to process this information. Dawn's grip on Spike's hand was almost painful now and her voice was shaking when she spoke: "I thought you said she was fine?"

"Her body is, she will suffer no lasting damage, but her mind...the surgeon said that physically, apart from being a bit bruised from the fall, there's nothing wrong with her skull and yet it's as if her mind has shut down."

Xander spoke up again: "Couldn't it just be a result of...of everything? I mean, maybe the anaesthetic from the surgery was really strong and she's not actually comatose just unconscious. That could be it, right?" The silence from the rest of the group answered his optimistic question and he dropped his gaze to the sterile hospital floor, trying to process what was happening.

The whole night was surreal. It was strange to think that only a few hours ago they had been fighting Glory and her minions, trying to save the world, and now they were here trying to save one of their own. It was even stranger to think that this seemed more important.

"Can I see her?"

Giles' attention snapped to the young brunette before him and he nodded: "The doctor said family only." The fact she had to see her sister in such a helpless state on her own overwhelmed her for a moment, but then she clenched her jaw and her very own resolve face came into existence. She followed Giles around the corner to Buffy's room.

The others watched them walk away. Anya hugged Xander tightly, Tara helped Willow sit then held her as she began to cry again and off to one side Spike stood motionless, staring blankly after his Lil' Bit as he cursed himself to the deepest fathoms of hell for failing her.

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_Three weeks later..._

The machines around the hospital bed beeped and hummed in time with Buffy's steady heartbeat. Giles and Dawn stood to one side watching as a doctor examined her, flashing a light into her eyes and taking a note of her blood pressure, and Dawn had a hard time in understanding their importance when her sister was in a coma and just _wouldn't wake up_. After a bout of silence that was causing her to become twitchy, Giles finally spoke. "How is she?"

The doctor looked up from his inspection of the patient lying motionless on the hospital bed, "The same. No worse, no better."

Giles glanced down at his Slayer, the sight of her almost lifeless causing him to remove and polish his glasses as if with weaker vision he would be unable to see her. It proved ineffectual – the image was burned into his mind. "What does that mean?"

"It means she's non-responsive so far." The doctor sighed then decided to be straightforward. "There are a few techniques we can try, but situations like this usually rely on the patient pulling themselves out of it. And though she has woken from a coma before, there's no certainty she'll be able to do it again." He glanced to the young girl who was staring at the comatose woman with pleading, glassy eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, mostly to the girl, and then made his way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Dawn slowly walked forward and placed her hands around the metal bars sticking up beside the bed, tightening her grip until her knuckles went white. "What are we going to do now?"

Replacing his glasses, Giles placed his hand over hers and squeezed it as he looked at the woman lying before them. Even though tubes were running in and out of her arms and she wore a shapeless white hospital gown he still could still see the strong Buffy he knew, even though her 'extended rest' had brought a paleness to her complexion.

"We save her."

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Readers are always needed. Reviewers are always wanted.

TBC


	2. Dream One

**A/N: **thanks for all the reviews/story alerts, I had no idea that I'd get so much interest in this! I've decided to update chapters every four days - I know it's a weird time frame, but it appeals to me for some reason. Also sorry this chapter is so short, I feel evil, but this is how long it needed to be. On with the story!

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**Dream One**

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The place was beautiful. Empty fields stretched eternally to the horizon, long blades of grass rippling like water in the gentle wind. The flat landscape went on undisturbed as far as the eye could see, with no vegetation other than the golden green prairie that seemed to whisper as it rippled. There was merely one tree marring the perfect horizon, surrounded by a small area of short emerald grass. Its wide leaves threw shadows on the ground, dappled by small points of light that managed to creep through the treetop above. Sunlight shone down on the endless grassland.

Just beyond the shade created by the leaves sat a woman. Leaning back on her hands, her legs were stretched out in front of her with her face tilted towards the warmth. She was like a cat basking in the midday sun, completely at ease. The soft breeze caressed her hair and made the material of her dress flutter slightly. Lips parting in a soft sigh, she closed her eyes and turned her face fully towards the cloudless sky.

"Why are you here?" His voice didn't frighten her – he often visited her here. If nights had existed, then she would say he came looking for her every day.

There was no hostility in his question, only a mild curiosity and she answered calmly: "I like it here."

Suddenly he was lying next to her, mimicking her pose. His forehead wrinkled as he frowned against the sunlight and his blue eyes almost matched the sky. "You're not meant to be here."

As before, no emotion dominated his tone – it was merely a statement of fact, so she remained silent, her skin soaking in the sunlight. There were no birds crowding the sky, though the faint sound of their cries could be heard if she listened closely.

"You're needed," his voice broke the silence again.

She smiled: "I know."

He turned to look at her and she did the same, like they were mirror images of each other – male and female variations of the same being. "Are you going to stay here?" he said.

"For a little while," she replied. They looked out over the horizon. "I need to be here," she continued after a time, turning back to him. "I'm meant to be here right now."

"How do you know?" She gave him a look. He turned back to the horizon. "You're needed," he repeated.

"I know," she smiled.

She lay back in the long golden grass, he did the same, and they lay in silence like that with the wind gently tugging at their clothes and hair and skin. Time passed. Eventually he once again broke the non-oppressive silence: "I should go."

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment before opening as she turned her head to see him sitting up, looking at her. "Okay."

He paused and then stood and stretched. He began to walk away and she sat up to watch him go. "Thank you," she called quietly. He didn't turn back and she watched as his figure blurred then disappeared somewhere near the horizon. He was how she marked her time in this dreamlike place – when he came was during the day and when he left marked the start of her night. She liked having a sense of time, even if it was vague.

Buffy sighed softly and leant back on her hands, legs stretched out and head tilted towards the sun as the wind gently played with her dress, her hair, her skin.

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Readers are needed. Reviewers are wanted.

TBC


	3. Part Two

**Part Two**

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For the next four months the group struggled between trying to find a way to help Buffy, always having someone at the hospital and fighting the ever-growing demon population. It seemed that word had somehow got out that the Slayer was out of action and an increasing number of demons and vampires had come home to the hellmouth. This added a second reason for someone to always be at her side – because it was known that she was defenceless, a few run-of-the-mill vampires had turned up at the hospital intending to make a name for themselves only to be slain by whoever was on duty. For once, Buffy needed them to protect her.

Tonight it was Spike's turn to be at the hospital until just before sunrise when he would be replaced by Xander and Anya. Since he had time until visiting hours finished he shrugged off his coat and placed it over the back of the chair by Buffy's bed.

"Hey luv," he said, reaching over and gently caressing her hair, "S'been a while ain't it? That bloody Watcher of yours has had me on stakin' duty thanks to the new baddies in town. But I wouldn't worry bout them pet, they're nothin' I can't handle." He dragged the chair closer to the bed, its wooden legs scratching dully against the vinyl floor. "So let's see then, what's happened since I was here last? Oh right, I dunno if the Whelp's mentioned it but him and the demon girl are engaged. S'bloody unbelievable if you ask me that he actually had the balls to ask her – now don't get me wrong, Slayer, I just meant...oh bloody hell you know what I meant. I wish 'em luck...her more than him." Spike paused for a moment and his hands unconsciously reached out to take one of hers as he tried to think of anything else he needed to relate. "I told you Red's managed to convince old Rupert that researchin' into supernatural ways of helping you isn't a bad thing. Was quite clever, the way she got him round, sayin' bout how the portal was what had caused this so it wasn't likely to be natural so the cure didn't have to be natural either. Very persuadin'. Still the theory she's going with at the moment doesn't sit well with me, pet. She reckons you're catatonic again, like when the hell bitch took Nibblet, but I don't think that's true is it luv?" he looked at her, noticing how still her eyes were behind their lids. "You're not in there by choice this time. Just need to figure out what's keepin' you there."

He watched her sleep as this last thought circled in his mind. He couldn't accept that she was willingly like this as Willow's big theory suggested purely because there was no reason. Before it was because her little sister had been stolen by a hell god who was intent on bleeding her out which would open a portal and end the world. Quite understandably, Buffy had been unable to cope with this new strain and had retreated into herself – but this time nothing bad had happened. They had _won. _She and everyone important to her had survived with no lasting injuries and as a plus there was no destruction to the world in general. So there was just no reason for her to lock herself up in a mental prison. It didn't make sense.

Spike sighed. It had been four months. Well, four months and four days but that was near enough four months for him. 126 days that she had been lying in this hospital bed, near enough dead to the world.

And they had nothing.

His anger at the situation, at himself, at the group's inability to find anything helpful, hell even some for Buffy for not being able to snap out of it started to rise in him but he clenched his jaw and hands in an attempt to calm himself down. It was only when he heard bones starting to creak that he remembered he held Buffy's hand in his own so he quickly released his grip and started rubbing her hand to get the blood circulating again, cursing his stupidity under his breath.

"Um, sir?"

The voice made him jump and his head snapped up to look at the door where a very timid nurse stood with a clipboard held tightly to her chest. "Dr Walters would like to speak with you."

Dr Walters was the man who had been monitoring Buffy for the past four months. Spike glanced at Buffy: "Won't be a moment, luv," then he followed the nurse out the room down to the nearest station where the doctor was signing some papers. He waited impatiently for him to finish, hating to be away from Buffy's room for too long, and briefly shook the doctor's hand when he had finally finished.

"Thanks for speaking with me Mr..."

"Just William's fine."

The doctor smiled. "Well, William I'd like to speak with you about Ms Summers."

"Yeah I gathered."

"As you know whilst Ms Summers has been with us her condition has neither taken a turn for the worse or for the better, and yet you and the other members of your friendship group refuse to give up hope, something I deeply admire. But, and William I feel I must be blunt, her condition is severe and you may want to consider that perhaps it would be in Ms Summers' best interest if we moved her out of the hospital to somewhere more familiar and comforting to her."

Spike had been focusing so hard on not smirking at the idea of him and the rest of the gang being part of a 'friendship group' that he had to take a minute to fully understand what the good doctor was saying. "You telling me to get her out the hospital? Free up another bed?"

"No! No, I would never tell you or any other member of your group to do anything." Dr Walters sighed, wishing people would actually listen to what he was saying rather than attack it straight off. "Maybe it came out wrong. What I am trying to say is that though I want nothing more than Ms Summers' full recovery, there's nothing more we can do for her. Physically there is nothing wrong with her and yet she shows no sign of awareness of the outside world. I'm sorry if I've offended you, I just felt I had to say that she would do as well in her own house as she would here."

"But she's only been like this for four months – some cases have lasted for years. What if she just wakes up? And what if she stops breathing on her own? You said that could happen and we wouldn't bloody well be half as capable as dealing with it in a house than in a hospital-"

"Yes but William we can't focus on 'what ifs,' we need to be focusing on what's best for Ms Summers. And my professional opinion is that her life now relies on the powers of fate. Medicine can do no more for her."

"Well what about new treatments? They're happenin' all the time and- wait, what did you just say?"

"I said that medicine, as it is now, can do nothing for her anymore. Her life seems reliant on the powers of fate, of which I am a great believer though some say doctors can't be religious," he started to smile but on seeing Spike's shell-shocked expression he patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry to be so blunt, it's why I decided to speak about this with you – I thought you'd be the one I could be the most forward with. Let me know if you come to any decision," with a squeeze of his hand Dr Walters walked away down the corridor unknowing that he had just solved the mystery that had been circling in Spike's mind.

He raced back to Buffy's room and on seeing no intruders went over to her and grabbed her hand: "Hold on, luv, just hold on. I'm gonna work on gettin' you out of there." He reached for the phone that sat on the only table in the room and dialled Giles' number. "Rupert, I need you all to get over here now. No, nothing's happened I- will you bloody listen? I think I know what's happened to Buffy. Round the troops and get here cause I'm only gonna explain it once."

He hung up the phone and resumed his seat next to his Slayer, only this time there was a smirk on his face.

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Readers are needed. Reviewers are wanted.

TBC


	4. Dream Two

**A/N: **just a quick thank you to all my readers, especially the reviewers and story alerters/favourite-rs, it means so much :) there's some names in there I recognise as well as some new ones, but major thanks to all for bothering to read this. This part's a little short (I know, I know, sorry) but it's necessary, I promise! Anyway my ramble's over - on with the story.

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**Dream Two**

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Buffy lay in the sun, watching as a small cloud disappeared over the eastern horizon. She had been watching it for some time now as it periodically appeared to the west then crossed the sky and set in the east. Its presence unsettled her as each time it reappeared above the western horizon it was slightly darker, slightly larger than it had been before.

The rest of her surroundings were unchanged: the sun's light still caused the fields of grass to glitter and shine, the wind still played with her dress, her hair, her skin. She turned so she was resting on her stomach and the short grass pricked into the skin of her cheeks so she shifted her head 'til it was resting on her arms, closing her eyes and relaxing her strangely tense muscles. When eventually she became uncomfortable, she turned back to look at the sky just in time to see the cloud reappear.

For the first time, the breeze that washed over her made her shiver.

She stretched her arms, rolled her shoulders and neck, stretched out her legs and flexed her toes. When that wasn't enough she went to stand but was stopped by the sight of him appearing on the horizon. She smiled: "Why are you here?" she asked playfully.

"I like it here," he replied, suddenly sat right next to her. He saw the cloud that was now near the centre of the sky and frowned slightly. "Has that always been here?"

"It's new. It's on repeat. Rise on the west, set on the east..."

"Like an opposite sun."

She turned to him: "The sun doesn't set here."

They sat together in silence for a while, he curiously observing the cloud, she waiting for him to say what he always said. She had to wait until the object of his attention went under the horizon for him to speak: "Where does it go?"

That wasn't what she was expecting. "Where does what go?"

"The cloud," he replied, finally looking to her. They were mirroring each other again.

"I don't know. I haven't been anywhere other than here."

He frowned. "You mean you haven't explored this place?"

She frowned. "No."

"Then why are you here?"

"I like it here."

"You're not meant to be here. You're needed."

"I know."

This whole exchange contained more emotion than it ever had before that she barely realised it was the same conversation they always held. She looked away from him to the horizon and he copied her. This was the first time he had visited her that she wanted to be alone, his refusal to understand her need to be here was becoming irritating. He'd been questioning her for so long...

How long?

"How long have I been here?" she spoke the question before she realised she wanted an answer. The cloud reappeared.

Instead of answering her, he trained his gaze on the light grey mass crossing the sky. Determined to get a reply she stared at him, her irritation growing when he didn't seem to notice. When eventually he did speak, it was once again not what she was expecting: "I should go."

She frowned and was going to protest but he stood and began walking away before she got a chance. Just before he got to the horizon, he stopped and turned back to her. "You're needed," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the grass. Then without waiting for a reply he turned and vanished near the horizon.

Buffy sighed in disappointment, "I know." She watched the cloud as it passed the mid-point of the sky, convinced it was moving faster than it had previously. The unanswered question filled her thoughts: _how long?_

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Readers are needed. Reviewers are wanted.

TBC


	5. Part Three

**A/N: **so here's the next chapter as promised, I'm enjoying this 'every four days' updating :) thanks so much for the reviews, please keep them coming - especially with ideas about what you think is going on. It's so interesting to hear people's thoughts! Sorry about the rambling, I hope you enjoy. On we go.

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**Part Three**

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Around fifteen minutes later found the group gathered minus Xander and Anya. "Where are they?" muttered Spike, glaring at Giles.

"I told you, I called both them and Willow right after you rang me and I left a message. It's not likely that I got their number wrong so why don't we just wait for them to arrive so you can explain your...great epiphany."

"Yeah I'm sure they're j-j-just c-caught in, uh, traffic," Tara chimed in.

Spike rolled his eyes: "Yeah I'm sure that's exactly why they didn't pick up the phone." At that moment the couple made their appearance, Xander looking a little embarrassed.

"Sorry about the lateness, we were just, uh-" when her fiancé struggled to explain, Anya jumped in.

"Xander and I were playing Ancient Explorer and I was just thanking him for saving me from the evil witch doctor when the phone rang – and let me just say that electronic devices are not very good at maintaining an ancient atmosphere, not to mention it also ruined Xander's-"

"So! What's the big news that you called us here for?" Xander looked pleadingly around the group, trying to ignore the smirk Spike was wearing, and settled his gaze on Giles.

"Actually Xander we are here for some information that Spike has to tell us." He looked sceptical but turned his attention to the platinum blond who was sitting by Buffy. On seeing so many expectant faces, his "great epiphany" suddenly didn't seem so great. Spike looked to the comatose woman beside him - he knew that this wasn't voluntary, just _knew_, and he hadn't called the Scoobies over here to bail out now. He took a breath.

"Right, well I know that you, Red, are convinced that the Slayer's like this because she wants to be but that doesn't sound right. Think about it – last time she stonewalled us was when the Bit was taken by that Glory bint so it wasn't surprising, but why would she do it this time? Can you lot think of a reason?" He waited a moment and on getting no answer he continued: "That's just it, there is no reason. We _won, _people, so why would she go catatonic again? She's not in there by choice, not this time."

They contemplated this for a moment and then Giles spoke up: "As strange as this may sound, Spike, I actually agree with you." He turned to Willow. "I'm sorry, but you must see that there's no cause for Buffy to be doing this to herself."

She nodded, not wasting time sulking that her theory had been replaced but instead focusing on trying to follow this lead: "So if she's not keeping herself there, then who is?"

"Well, that's what I think I got sorted," Spike answered her, eager now. "Earlier I was talkin' to that Dr Walters bloke and he mentioned that he thought the Buffy's life depended on 'the powers of fate' or some such bollocks, but it made me realise – it's the Powers. The bloody Powers That Be are the ones behind this!"

Instead of the rush of agreement he was expecting, Spike was met with blank expressions and silence. He became less sure of himself. "How can we know that it's them for sure?" Willow finally spoke up.

"...what d'you mean 'how do we know for sure'? Who else could it bloody be?"

"Willow's right," Anya chimed in. "The Slayer's a target for many sorcerers and warlocks. It could just as likely be any of them, especially if they're being paid for it."

Spike looked to Giles: "Guess you don't believe me either?"

Rupert took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't see how you can know for certain it's the Powers rather than any number of magical beings, or there are even demons capable of mind control. Then there is the question of why they would do this – by taking the Slayer out of commission, the balance between good and evil isn't, well, balanced."

"I don't know why they bloody did it but-" Spike cut himself off. He could tell by the looks on their faces that he wasn't going to be winning them round, and he knew there was no way that they would accept the reason that he 'just bloody knew.' _It's just the kind of trick they'd pull._ Suddenly Dawn moved towards him.

"Spike, I believe that Buffy isn't in her own head 'cause she wants to be, but I don't think we can rule out all the suspects," she bowed her head slightly, ashamed that she couldn't let herself completely trust his judgement. There was too much on the line. "I think that we should look into all the possibilities, including the Powers, and see what we make of it then," she looked back up at him, "Okay?"

_Well didn't that sound just like Big Sis? _Spike sighed heavily. "Yeah, Nibblet, sounds like a plan."

Not long after, the gang made their way out of the hospital with renewed vigour in the hopes of doing research which might actually lead somewhere. Spike resumed his guard until visiting hours ended when he moved to a couple of chairs slightly down the hall from Buffy's room. The others may be busy researching in the Watcher's house for clues as to who would have the power to do this, but Spike couldn't shake his conviction that he was spot on with his reasoning. He'd been around for far longer than any of them – well, except the demon girl – but he couldn't think of any demon he'd met that had enough magicks to keep the Slayer incapacitated for over four months.

After an uneventful shift, Xander and Anya turned up at sunrise to take his place. "Giles and Willow are busy researching at his house but Tara took Dawn home to get some sleep. Anything happen during the night?" When Spike replied in the negative, there was an awkward moment before he just walked to the elevators and went down to the basement car park then exiting, as always, through a sewer drain. When he reached his crypt, he shrugged out of his duster and made himself a mug of blood before settling in front of the TV. He had a good few hours before Willy's opened, and he planned to use that time to rest and recuperate – there was no telling where his search for the Powers would lead him, but he would be ready.

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At Giles' house, he and Willow were making an extremely long list of demons, sorcerers, witches, warlocks, Gods, shamans and even vampires who were capable of doing or hiring someone who was capable of doing the magicks needed to control Buffy's mind. Although the power needed for such control was vast, the list they were coming up with was so long purely because any demon with a decent amount of cash would be able to pay someone to do it.

The option of jumping on Spike's "The Powers Did It" bandwagon was looking more and more appealing.

Nearly every surface in the house was covered in books or papers as the pair very slowly yet steadily made their way through the whole of Giles' book collection. Willow sat at the desk and as she flipped over to yet another piece of paper she turned to him with a sigh of exasperation: "Giles, we need to narrow our search. At the rate we're going it'll be weeks before we finish our lists, then months before we start investigating into specific demons," she sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair, staring at the pile of books in front of her: "There has to be an easier way to do this," she muttered.

"There is," came his reply as he got up from the sofa. "We can abandon our search and go blindly after the Powers as Spike wants to do and, I'm guessing, he will do even though we didn't agree with him." He moved to the tired redhead and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder: "But sadly the easy way is barely ever the right way, though it would be much simpler if it was." They shared a smile and then Giles moved into the kitchen. "How do you suggest we narrow the search?"

"Well I was thinking – it seems pointless to name suspects who could afford to hire someone, because then we'd be talking about basically the whole demon population apart from the real low-end guys, and the chance is that whoever they hired will be in our list anyway so it'd just be easier to find the ones that would be hired rather than the ones that would do the hiring if...if that makes sense?" Giles had to take a minute to sort through her confusing explanation.

"You're saying that we should only look into the beings with the ability to cast the spell themselves because if someone was hiring another to do their work for them, then we'd be able to find them through finding the demon, warlock or some such other that performed the spell, yes?"

"Uh, yeah, only I said it in a much more confusing way." Giles came out of the kitchen with a mug and a plate of cookies, the latter of which he placed beside Willow.

"It makes sense, and it would shorten our research, which by this point is an idea I am more than willing to accept," Willow smiled, the student in her glowing with the praise.

"We'd better get back to it then," she said, reaching for one of the cookies.

* * *

Spike used the sewers to get to Willy's Place in the late hours of the afternoon, far later than he had wanted to thanks to him sleeping like the dead. On entering the nearly empty bar, he headed straight for its owner who was serving a bunch of Gurla demons glasses of what smelt like raw sewage. When he saw Spike enter, Willy quickly moved towards him with a nervous smile.

"Spike! What can I get for you this fine day? I've got a new delivery of gorilla blood, very fresh – I hear it tastes the most like human-"

"I'm not here to socialise. I need some information." At this statement, the bar owner became noticeably more twitchy, his eyes flicking to the demons sitting at his bar.

"No can do, Spike. You see, each time I give you information, I lose business and blood and I don't want that to happen anymore, not in my place." The vampire went to interrupt but Willy cut him off: "I'm sorry, man, but I ain't gonna say a word," and he promptly went into the back room, glancing at Spike quickly over his shoulder.

He took the hint and left the bar, lifting his jacket over his head to avoid the evening sun as he sprinted to the back door which had been opened. When he entered he could see Willy standing near the door so that he could keep an eye on his place but out of sight of the few demons that were frequenting it: "Look, I can't stay back here long or they're gonna start to suspect something."

"Yeah, Willy I get it. All I need to know is how I get in contact with the Powers."

The man's eyes widened: "The Powers? You mean, the Powers That Be?"

"Who the hell else would I mean?"

"Oh man those guys are serious – what do you want with them?"

Spike's eyes narrowed: "I don't think that's your business, mate, now answer my question."

"Yeah, yeah sure," he glanced behind him into the bar. "You can't contact them directly, they're too high up for that, but there are people you can go to who act sorta like go-betweens."

"Where can I find one?"

Willy glanced behind him again: "Well lucky for you one's come to town recently, said the unguarded Hellmouth made for an interesting holiday resort. Called himself the Broker. I hear he's hiding out near the bus station."

Spike studied the man for a moment, trying to see if he was telling the truth. Something in his expression satisfied him and he went to exit down the sewer but was stopped by the bar owner's voice.

"So, we're even now right? I mean, you stopped a bunch of demons from taking my stock, I gave you this helpful piece of information and so now that's it. We're even?"

"If I find this Broker guy, then yeah we're even. If not," Spike shrugged then dropped down into the sewer. Willy didn't doubt that, even if he couldn't bodily harm him, Spike would have no scruples in damaging his business in some brutal way. He could only hope that this Broker demon was still at the bus station when Spike got there.

The vampire in question had made his way across town, arriving at his destination just as the sun was setting. Impressed by his lucky timing, he pulled himself out of the sewer and found himself in an alley behind the station. Guessing that his target wouldn't be inside if he was 'hiding out' as Willy had put it, he would either be somewhere here or in either of the alleys running beside the building. After searching all three, he had to admit it looked like his luck had run dry - the only life in them were a lot of rats and a homeless guy who was sitting spinning a coin. As Spike walked past him again, heading back to the sewer to go trash Willy's stock in return for pissing him off and wasting his time, he noticed that the homeless man had extremely long fingers but no fingernails.

When he paused on his way to the sewer, the homeless man stopped playing with the coin. Spike couldn't make out his face as it was covered by a mass of dirty grey hair and a messy beard, but he could tell that he wasn't human now that he was paying attention – the heartbeat was much slower. "You the Broker?"

There was a pause in which he began spinning the coin again: "Who told you that name?"

"S'not important. I need-"

"I know what you need," the Broker's voice was smooth and gentle, completely at odds with his dishevelled appearance. "But you should know, before you ask, that you are far too late. It is out of your hands."

"What d'you mean?"

"She cannot be saved. And that, my good vampire, is all I can say about it."

Spike reached down and heaved the demon off the ground, shoving him against the wall: "You'll say a whole lot more about it if you wanna walk away unharmed, mate," he muttered threateningly. With a burst of strength that surprised him he was thrown off the Broker and into the opposite wall, the impact causing it to shake. As he lay wincing at the pain firing through his body, he listened to the deceptively strong being opposite him.

"I will walk away unharmed no matter how much I say or don't say, although I admire your blind faith in your abilities," he gently readjusted his dirty apparel as Spike stood and wiped some blood from his lip. "However what I said is true, that's all I can say about it today."

Spike picked up on his wording: "Today? So if I come back then you'll tell me what I want, is that it?"

The Broker seemed to consider this for a moment, clicking his fingers and summoning the coin from its place on the ground to his hand and began rolling it smoothly over his fingers. "If you come back tomorrow evening, back to exactly where you're standing right now, when the sun starts to set, then I may – possibly – be able to give you more information. However, it may not be the information you want to hear. Do we understand each other, vampire?" he held out his free hand and after a moment's hesitation Spike took it. As soon as he let go the Broker was gone.

A moment later he made his way to the night-darkened streets, intent on going to Giles' place to see if they'd made any headway and to look up some information on this Broker demon. He also felt he should update them on what he'd been up to, an action he told himself felt necessary due to the matter at stake and not because he was in any way 'house-broken.'

Today made 127 days that Buffy had been comatose, and Spike was determined that she wouldn't be stuck one day more than she had to be.

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Readers are needed. Reviewers are wanted.

TBC


	6. Dream Three

**A/N: **I realised I won't be able to post tomorrow, but I figured doing it late tonight was just as good. However the next (and last!) chapter will still be posted on the 26th. Okay, that's all I have to say this chapter so on we go!

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**Dream Three**

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_How long?_

The same phrase had been consuming her thoughts since his figure had disappeared near the horizon. For some reason she couldn't shake the feeling that while she had been in this place, she really was meant to be somewhere else as he had always suggested. She sighed heavily and looked up at the now massive grey cloud which was endlessly crossing the sky, her mind turning to the other question he had asked: _Where does it go?_

With a surge of energy she hadn't felt in her whole time in the plain Buffy pushed herself to her feet, relishing in the feel of her muscles finally fully stretching. After flexing her bare feet in the spiky grass, she began to follow the cloud's path off to the east. The wind she could feel brushing against her skin when she was sitting had disappeared now she was walking, giving the whole place a stillness that only she disturbed as she made her way through the long blades of yellow-green grass. She kept her eyes skyward as she walked, assuming that because she never reached the edge of the cloud it must still be moving. A quick glance behind her confirmed the theory – she could no longer see the tree.

At first she counted her steps but quickly became bored and so walked on silently, letting her thoughts wander and keeping an eye on the ominous dark grey mass.

What if he was right? She had never taken his questions seriously, though the more she thought about it the more she couldn't understand _why_ she hadn't taken him seriously. He was always sincere and never demanded anything of her, just enquired, but she had always made light of his claims that she was 'needed.' Needed for what?

Also, where did he go when he left her? She had never thought to ask, just taken it for fact that he was either with her or...not. But where was he when he wasn't with her? Did he have a house somewhere past the horizon? He always left and appeared in the same place, so it seemed perfectly plausible that he lived nearby. Maybe he had a spare bed she could use...or maybe she could just share his bed. Buffy smiled and knew she wouldn't mind that.

She suddenly frowned then looked down at the light summer dress she was wearing. Thinking about a home had brought seemingly inconsequential questions to mind – like why wasn't her dress dirty? All she'd done was sit in the grass, so stains would be expected. Also, why hadn't she felt the need to sleep? And why didn't the sun set?

A gentle sound brought her attention back to the sky, and she was alarmed when all she could see was a gigantic grey mass. She looked around wildly, searching for any inch of blue and seeing nothing except the colossal cloud that had started out as small and white and fluffy.

The gentle sound reached her again, and it took her a moment to realise what it was. _Thunder. _Seemingly having heard her thoughts, a violent peal shook through the sky and caused her to clasp her hands over her ears.

_Shelter, _she thought hurriedly, _I need to find shelter. _Buffy turned and started to run back the way she had walked, tripping and stumbling over the long blades of grass. An especially fierce crack of thunder sent her to her knees as she cringed away from the resounding noise and it was quickly followed by another. Using all her willpower she forced herself to her feet, stumbling across the plain, desperately searching for the familiar tree. She flinched as another peal echoed around her, but her heart swelled with hope as she caught sight of the tree not too far away.

The sight propelled her forward and she ignored the loud snap of thunder and the long grass that almost tripped her, completely focused on reaching the tree, convinced it could protect her from the lightning that must soon be accompanying the thunder.

When she got closer, however, the hopeful smile that had been growing on her features fell and she frowned at the familiar figure standing beneath the tree. He was staring at her with something like awe and she couldn't help but wonder why he had come from his house across the horizon to huddle under a tree in this weather. "Why are you here?" she asked him.

He blinked slightly as if she'd woken him from a trance: "I, uh, I honestly have no idea, luv."

Her frown deepened as she realised that even though he looked like him, this was not the man who visited her. "Who are you?"

The man looked confused for a moment, and then his expression cleared. Thunder sounded again. "It's okay luv, it's me – Spike. Buffy, pet, what d'you remember?" Her eyes widened at the sound of her name and she backed away from him slightly. Memories flooded into her mind of the night she had jumped.

The night she was meant to die.

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Readers are needed. Reviewers are wanted.  
TBC


	7. Part Four

**A/N: **so this is the final part. I just want to say a final massive THANK YOU to all you readers, reviewers, favouriters and alerters for your interest :) Special thanks go to darklover, SpeedDemon315, applemysteries and sakura1120 for being constant reviewers, I did notice you guys and looked forward to your reading your opinions on each chapter. I hope you enjoy this one :) On to the finale!

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**Part Four**

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When Spike arrived at Giles' place from his visit with the Broker all were there except the man himself as it was his turn to watch over Buffy. He was greeted warmly by Dawn but merely acknowledged by the others who were apparently too deep into researching for speech, but that just meant he could talk with the one person there who would actually listen to him. "So how's it going Bit? Research giving up the goods?"

"Not really," she replied, looking up from the books scattering the kitchen counter. "Even with all of us working on it we're barely halfway through Giles' insane book collection. I mean, I knew he had a lot but I didn't think it was possible for one person to own so many!"

"It's that bad?"

"I started counting them, but when I got to 172 I got ordered back to work," Spike smirked at this. "What've you been doing? Been out patrolling?"

"Not yet pet, been talkin' to a guy says he can get me in touch with the Powers. Thought I'd come here to try and get some info on him to see if he's who he says he is, but looks like that's not gonna happen," he finished, eyes sweeping over the group absorbed in their research. It was amazing how diligent they could be when the cause was right.

"Well, I could always help you," Dawn volunteered, seizing the opportunity to prove herself. She stuck her hands resolutely on her hips, the image comical as she was sitting down: "What's the perp's name?"

"Goes by the Broker, pet," he answered with a small smile, watching as she immediately started sifting through books scattered around her.

"The Broker, Broker...I saw that somewhere...where where where? Hmm...aha! AHA! Got him!" she showed Spike the book she was holding with a flourish, pointing to a drawing: "That him?"

He frowned at the tiny picture, studying the demon with a critical eye and noticing in particular the thin long fingers with no nails. He raised his brows at the chance of her finding what he needed so quickly – seemed like someone really wanted him to follow his instincts. "Yeah that's him alright Nibblet. How'd you find him so quick?"

Dawn smiled proudly. "I'd just finished going through this book when you came in and the name stuck in my head 'cause I thought it sounded like a TV show," she turned to look at the paragraph about him. "Well there's not much here. Says he was originally human and then made himself and his name through a deal he made with the Powers: he would be a conduit for them if they granted all his mortal desires which were immortality, strength and money. Wow, 'cause he's not shallow or anything...it says he's known for always carrying a single silver coin and is generally harmless unless provoked. That's it," she looked up at Spike. "Does that match what you know about him?"

He nodded. "Look Bit, when the cavalry surfaces, tell 'em that I'll be meeting this bloke tomorrow evenin' to talk to him bout Buffy. I want you lot to be at the hospital with her as soon as the sun sets in case the Powers don't like me interfering and decide to try and do something bout it. I don't want Buffy getting hurt 'cause of me, not again," his voice trailed off and he clenched his jaw as the all too familiar anger at himself reared its ugly head. On seeing Dawn about to say something, he quickly started speaking to cut off any unwanted consolation: "I'll be fine, pet, don't worry. Just keep her safe, yeah? That's all that's important. I'm gonna go do a quick patrol, get rid of any beasties lurking around," he went to leave.

"Spike, wait!" Dawn rushed after him and hugged him tightly round the waist: "Thank you for everything you're doing for my sister. It means a lot." After a pause he hugged her back gently.

"Anytime, pet."

When they parted, he opened the door and as he quirked his lips in a small smile he walked out and shut the door with a sharp bang. Xander's head shot up and he looked quickly around the apartment. "What'd I miss?"

* * *

As soon as the sun started to set the next day Spike was in the sewers, heading quickly for the bus station. He arrived, again, just as the sun settled below the horizon and as he pulled himself up into the alley he hoped that Dawn had convinced the gang into taking extra care to make sure that the Powers wouldn't be able to harm Buffy over his actions. Call him overcautious.

"You know most people use the streets nowadays."

Spike brushed himself as he looked at the Broker. The demon had cleaned himself up overnight – the filthy clothes had been replaced by a stylish suit and purple eyes could be seen looking at him amusedly from under well groomed hair. The coin he was playing with yesterday was running quickly along his knuckles. "Let's cut the small talk, Broker, are the Powers That Be the ones keeping the Slayer comatose?"

The Broker watched the coin effortlessly roll back and forth across his fingers. "She's not really the Slayer anymore you know. The other's taken her place."

"You know what I'm talking about. Answer me."

There was a long pause, the Broker flipped the coin and it span through the air, landing on his other hand before rolling smoothly across the fingers. "Yes," he finally replied, "but not in the way that you think." Before Spike could ask an impertinent question, the Broker held up a finger to silence him: "Do not vent your confusion on me. Patience is, and always will be, a virtue." So Spike waited silently, although not patiently, as the demon opposite him produced another coin and began rolling it on his other hand.

"The Powers That Be are just as perplexed by what has happened as you are. To put things bluntly, they do not know why your Slayer isn't dead. All of their sources – and believe me, they have millions of them – foretold that on the night when the Key opened the lock between worlds, its protector would sacrifice themselves and save the world. The protector being your Slayer, of course." The Broker sighed heavily, watching the coins as their movements mirrored each other on his hands. "It all sounded very heroic, and it all panned out very heroically – until she jumped and then _lived_. Of all things to go wrong in the grand scheme, _that_ was one option that was never even considered. No one has ever failed to die when they were supposed to. Except her." While he'd been speaking, the coins had drifted from his knuckles up into the air weaving graceful patterns around each other. When he paused so did they.

Spike was openly staring at him, a mixture of pain and disbelief colouring his features. "You mean Buffy...she was...she was _meant_ to die? That night when she jumped to save...it-it was meant to be..."

The Broker's purple eyes met his steadfastly: "Sorry," his voice was insincere, "that's just how it is. Or, how it was meant to be." The coins began spinning around each other, faster than before. "When things didn't pan out the Powers needed a way to give themselves some time to figure out what had gone wrong, but it's been so long now that they're mostly out of options. They're relying on her now, on her _humanity, _her belief_._ You should be thankful," he added, deftly grabbing the coins and rubbing them together between forefinger and thumb, "they've decided to be most generous to you, though I have no idea why."

Spike was so focused on trying to process and understand what he had just been told that he barely heard the Broker's last words: "Generous how?" His voice was hoarse.

The demon smiled. "They are letting you say goodbye," he flipped one of the coins to Spike and on a reflex he caught it, immediately cursing his reflexes when the alley began to fade and his vision started turning black.

"What the bloody hell are you doing to me?"

"I?" the Broker's voice was fuzzy but he could still hear the humour in it. "I am doing nothing. Be grateful, vampire, most do not get this opportunity."

"WHAT OPPORTUNITY?" he roared, unable to hear if he got a reply because a crack of thunder reverberated through his entire being. He blinked furiously as he tried to get his vision to clear so that he could wring that worthless Broker's neck for talking in riddles and telling him what he definitely did _not _want to hear. He couldn't believe what he had just been told. The idea that Buffy was meant to die and because she didn't she'd been locked up in her own head until they could find a "solution" to the _problem_ that her living had caused them was just too hard for him to understand.

Suddenly his thoughts were cut off and he was thrust to his knees by a deafening rattle of thunder. He closed his eyes and covered his ears instinctively until the sound of it had faded. On opening them, he could see he was in some kind of massive field that offered no shelter from the forks of lightning that must be accompanying the thunder. Strangely there was no rain even though the sky was just one continuous black cloud, but Spike didn't dwell on it long as he looked around for somewhere, anywhere that would provide some cover. The only thing marring the entire prairie was a large tree some distance from him so he ran toward it, cringing slightly as another thunder clap echoed around him.

Once under it, he took a moment to properly look at wherever the hell it was that he'd ended up. The tree he was standing under was surrounded by a circle of short cut grass, but the rest of the meadow comprised of long blades of it which were completely still as no wind stirred through the plain, making the thunder seem even more ominous – like he stood in the eye of a storm.

It took another two rolls of thunder before he caught sight of her, stumbling her way through the long grass and heading for the tree as if it was a beacon of safety. The instant he saw her he recognised her, but it was only when she got closer that he could fully understand that he really _was_ seeing her, that she really was right in front of him. When she finally got close enough and saw him staring at her in awe, she frowned: "Why are you here?"

The sound of her voice snapped him back to reality: "I, uh, I honestly have no idea, luv."

The frown didn't disappear from her features, in fact she was looking at him almost as if she had no idea who he was. "Who are you?" she asked.

Spike was now well and truly confused, but as the thunder sounded again the noise seemed to clear his mind and he understood. This place was where Buffy's mind had been for the past four months, and for a reason he didn't want to think about he had been transported here. As an added bonus the Powers had seemingly erased her memory: "It's okay luv, it's me – Spike. Buffy, pet, what d'you remember?"

The sound of her name seemed to shock her and she backed away from him: "Wh-why are you here?" she demanded, her voice trembling.

"Slayer, Buffy, tell me what you remember. I'm not gonna hurt you," he assured her as he moved closer, arms spread to his side as he tried to appear non-threatening as he could tell she was scared. Her brow was furrowed and her stance defensive as she stared at him with eyes filled with alarm. "I-I-I asked why you're here. I didn't...oh god..." her eyes widened momentarily before she squeezed them shut. Another peal of thunder rumbled threateningly.

"Buffy, what is it?"

"God I-I jumped and then..." her eyes snapped open, her gaze almost wild. "Oh, I remember, this place...they put me here, made me...forget...god Dawn! Dawn!" she moved closer to him then, clutching the lapels of his duster: "Is she safe? Is she okay? Tell me!"

"She's fine, pet, she's fine. You saved her," Spike quickly told her, tentatively placing his hands on her arms. "Buffy? You with me, luv?"

Her eyes seemed to clear and she looked at him for the first time with recognition and gently let go of his coat. "Spike. Hey. What're you doing here?" Almost laughing at the sound of her speaking normally, he hugged her close and immediately froze when he realised what he'd done and instantly let her go, mentally preparing himself for a beating or at least some harsh words. When none came he looked at her and was shocked to see a smile on her face.

"Gee it's great to see you too," she said playfully, seemingly completely ignorant of their surroundings. "Now are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Like I said, luv, I'm not sure. But we're gonna leave..." he looked around them. "Not really sure how we're gonna leave, but we'll find a way." He started to walk off into the field but paused when he sensed she wasn't following. "Buffy?" She was still standing beneath the tree, her gaze fixed somewhere on the ground.

"No," she said quietly, "that's not what's meant to happen."

A feeling of dread pooled in his heart, but he refused to acknowledge it. "Course it is, why would you want to stay here? The weather ain't half as good as in Sunnydale," he joked. The distant sound of thunder proved his point.

Buffy looked up at him, her eyes wide and sad and resigned: "I'm not staying here, but I can't go back. I have to go the other way."

His eyes widened, the words the Broker had said about the Powers relying on Buffy's humanity and her belief flashing in his mind. But Spike didn't yet know what her belief was in, so he didn't give up: "No," he refuted her, stalking back over to look her straight in the eye. "You don't have to do _anything. _Nothing. Do you hear me, Slayer? What they said isn't true, it isn't. You're needed, you get that? We _need _you. I-" his voice broke and he clenched his jaw. He didn't know how she knew about her intended fate, but she obviously did – she was still looking at him with that wide, vulnerable gaze full of acceptance. And he hated it.

"That's what she told me, in the desert. The First Slayer told me that this was going to happen. I didn't understand it until that night on the tower, and then they made me forget...but Spike it has to be like this-"

"Why? Tell me, Slayer – WHY the BLOODY HELL does it have to be anything like this?" Against his best efforts, a tear fell down his cheek.

She didn't flinch from his hostility but reached up and gently placed her hand against his cheek, caressing it slowly and wiping away the tear. "Because that's how it's meant to be. I'm so sorry, please try to understand," she spoke softly, tilting his head so he would be forced to look her in the eye before explaining simply: "Death is my gift."

_So that's what she believes in._ Before he could make any response she reached up and touched her lips to his. It was the gentlest of kisses, a barely-there touch that echoed the kiss she'd bestowed on him after he bore torture from Glory, only this time it contained something more substantial than a thank you. And it was perfect. When she moved away from him, he couldn't care less that he was openly crying now, reverent eyes soaking in the image of her inches from him as her breath gently brushed against his skin.

"Make sure to keep your promise," she murmured softly as his vision began to fade, "And tell Dawn I meant what I said on the tower." When the image of her started to blur, he reached out to grab her but caught nothing except air.

"No! NO! Luv, Buffy – Buffy, no, please. Please, Buffy! BUFFY!"

_Make sure to keep your promise..._

When he opened his eyes he was lying in the alley beside the bus station. The Broker was gone, but it was still dark – sometime in the late hours of the night. _Maybe I dreamt it, _Spike thought feverishly, stumbling to get to his feet, _I'll bet it was that bloody Broker demon who decided to play Beat the Spike then left me here and I dreamt the whole thing. _As he made to stand his hand landed on something flat and metallic.

_Don't look at it Spike mate, just don't look. _Even as he thought it he turned his head to see what his hand was hiding, picking his arm up slowly until he could clearly see the small silver coin his hand had landed on.

_Buffy. _He was on his feet and sprinting to the hospital less than a second later, his feet beating a fast rhythm on the tarmac and his breath coming in harsh unneeded gasps. On reaching the hospital he didn't slow as he bolted past the reception and up the stairs to the third floor, however when he got to the end of the corridor he stopped and stared ahead of him. Spike swore he could feel his heart pounding, his chest tightening as he slowly made his way to her door.

As he got closer his enhanced hearing picked up the sound of sobbing and he tried to ignore it. However when he opened her door, he couldn't ignore it no matter how much he wanted to.

Try as he might to disregard that he could only hear six heartbeats, he couldn't tune out the monotone sound of the hospital machine as it displayed a flatline, or the sight of a distraught Dawn being feebly comforted by a crying Willow. He watched in frozen horror as two nurses who had appeared from somewhere slowly placed a sheet over Buffy's lifeless body.

Spike didn't know that less than three weeks later he would gaze up at her standing at the top of the stairs, brought back by Willow's spell. It didn't matter that he would only have to unknowingly wait those twenty days to see her now lifeless body resurrected. All that mattered was that she was gone, and it was his fault.

Buffy had been in a coma 127 days yesterday, 128 today, but he reckoned that today didn't really count, did it?

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Readers are always needed. Reviewers are always wanted.


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